


Coda: The More Things Change (1945-1949)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [313]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Angelic Grace Sex (Supernatural), Coming Untouched, Death from Old Age, F/M, Family, Gay Sex, Heaven, Hell, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sussex, Treason, World War II, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-12-18 06:51:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18244610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ The Holmes and Watson lineages continued: the post-War years. Sherlock and John continue to look after their own even from beyond the grave, young Sherlock and Hamon Watson both know that while curiosity may or may not have killed the cat it can most definitely scar young boys for life, a Hawke becomes a Lion while remaining a Hawke, and while both Lucifer and Lucius Holmes wonder whether one can die through sex in the next world, some things on Earth remain constant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vitabear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitabear/gifts).



_(Eustace Fitzherbert is the godson of Sherlock and John, and son of the late James Fitzherbert (1909-1945) who assisted Sherlock and John in their last decade at the cottage. Luke Jackson-Giles (born 1900) is the godson of the late Mr. Lucius Holmes and the son of the prodigious Mr. Benjamin Jackson-Giles who Sherlock and John rescued from the Tankerville Club way back in 1879)._

**1945**

**London, England**

Mr. Luke Jackson-Giles pushed his spectacles up his nose and looked at the young fellow sat in the ill-fitting suit before him. Fifteen years old and very clearly trying to look like the man he was not, he did however look the image of his real father. This was not going to be easy.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Fitzherbert”, he said sonorously. “I am sorry for the loss of your father, and with the end to this damn war so close.”

Eustace Fitzherbert nodded. His father James had signed up as an Army mechanic and had been important in keeping the Allied war machine rolling, but he had been killed in the final days of the so-called Battle of the Bulge, the insane Adolf Hitler's final mad gamble in the West.

“Two things”, the lawyer said. “First, as you know your father was fortunate to befriend the great Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson, who did much for my family as well as yours and, as you do know, became your godfathers. Your father had not intended to tell you until you came of age but those gentlemen left a considerable sum for you. It is enough to purchase you a small house somewhere if you so wish, or you could invest it if you wish.”

The young man was clearly surprised at that.

“Father never said”, he said carefully.

“I believe that he saw what money did to his own family”, the lawyer said equally carefully. “I am afraid that my second piece of news may come as something of a shock. Your father again asked that this only be revealed to you on your majority or in the event of his death, whichever came first. He himself was the result of an affair and he wished that you know your true ancestry. He spoke with his own father – your real grandfather – and they agreed that you be provided with the latter's address and contact details if you wish to.....”

He was interrupted when a lady burst through the door, and sighed. His cousin Alice Tudor, to whom manners were just places that rich folks lived in. 

“You told me to remind you about your father's birthday party”, the nineteen-year-old said, before turning her eyes on the newcomer. “Well hello there!”

Eustace Fitzherbert blushed fiercely.

“Alice!” the lawyer said reprovingly.

“Oh I'm not a cradle-snatcher”, she grinned. “I can wait - _for quality!”_

The young man before her shuddered.

֍

_Postscriptum: She did indeed wait – they were married the day after his eighteenth birthday some three years later._

֍


	2. Chapter 2

_(Now aged twenty-two this is the Tobias Hawke who in 1933 was acknowledged by the original Sherlock as his great-grandson)._

**1945**

**Marlborough, Wiltshire**

Lord Tobias Hawke just had time to finish reading the article before the Records Office clerk returned with the form. The nobleman sighed over the main headline; for all the people in this country who had fought for it, there would always be one or two traitors. And having a famous name had not saved Mr. Bevill Holmes from a fitting end at the Tower, his now Fuhrer-less employers far too busy being surrounded by Soviet troops to bother with small fry like him. The war, at least in the west, was all but over.

“Can you confirm that for me, sir?” the clerk asked again.

Lord Tobias sighed; officials these days! It had been bad enough with their first child last year, Harry receiving the traditional family name which had also been that that of Lord Tobias' unfortunate soldier brother who had died in the Battle of the Bulge with the end of the War in sight. Even then he had had to explain twice why it had to be Harry and not Henry.

“Lion”, he said. “L-I-O-N. It is an African big cat.”

The clerk scratched his bald head. Sardonicity was apparently unknown to him.

“Bit unusual”, he offered.

“It is the name of a very dear friend of the family and my second cousin once removed”, Lord Tobias said. “I met my wife through him and since he and his wife have no children of his own, we both thought that naming our second son after him would be a kindness.”

The clerk nodded and filled in the form. Lord Tobias smiled; Lion Buckingham was a valued good friend, and like so many of the Hawkes and Buckinghams he owed much of his happiness to the late Mr. Sherlock Holmes. He would ask Lion and Beatty to be godparents as well.

֍


	3. Chapter 3

**1946**

**Heaven**

God felt fully entitled to an eye-roll as The Thing With The Swinging Balls started to shake again.

“At least we finally cracked the sound issue”, Mrs. God said airily in between rattling away at her old-fashioned typewriter, seemingly able to write terrible fiction and talk at one and the same time. “I am only surprised that our dear Castiel had not cracked his hunter yet.”

God winced. Seven years since Castiel had ended his existence as Mr. Sherlock Holmes and brought Dean Winchester _a.k.a._ John Watson to Heaven. Seven bloody years! And they were still at it!

“It was perhaps not the wisest choice to allow that Cornish ex-fisherman to drop in on them”, God mused. “He may be Dean Winchester now but it seems that old jealousies die hard.”

“Not the only thing that is hard”, His Wife agreed as the Thing With The Swinging Balls shook even more.

God sighed. It was One Of Those Decades again.

֍


	4. Chapter 4

**1947 (Earth-time)**

**Hell**

What was left of Lucifer glanced across to the room to where Gadreel was busy getting something out of a drawer. The devil would have turned his head to look but after last night..... no.

“What're you up to?” he asked sleepily.

“The last of those terrible Nazis have been here a few months now”, the angel said, “so I thought it was time to move to Stage Two of their eternal punishment. Just when they thought the physical suffering was bad, we add the mental.”

Gadreel closed the drawer and turned to reveal he had a handful of ear-plugs. The devil would have frowned in puzzlement but that would have taken too many facial muscles.

“Wha....?” he managed.

“Playing 'The Collected Works Of Miss Becky Rosen And Her Fellow Travellers Along The Literary Road'”, Gadreel grinned. “These are for the poor demons who have to set it up.”

The devil frowned.

“Did I authorize that?” he managed.

Gadreel grinned mischievously. The next minute Lucifer fairly screamed and his prostate was assaulted by a shot of raw angelic grace, while a second bolt wrapped itself around his cock and whipped it to rock-hardness so fast that the devil's back actually arched under the attack. The angel smiled and quadrupled the pressure in slightly under half a nanosecond. 

Lucifer blew so hard that he managed to hit the ceiling. Again.

“Any objections?” Gadreel said dryly. “No? Thought not.”

He sauntered from the room, leaving one broken but very happy devil gasping behind him.

֍


	5. Chapter 5

**1948 (Earth-time)**

**Heaven**

Mr. Lucius Holmes sighed as he heard steps approaching his bedroom. He had not known what to expect of Heaven, but a sex-obsessed angel who apparently 'did' for him in between attending to the devil – well, it wasn't only life that was full of surprises. Death had its fair share, too.

It was odd that he was thinking that precise thought just then because that was also the moment when he realized that there was not one but two sets of steps. Sure enough Banjax came into the room as naked and horny as ever, and behind him....

_”Sandy?”_

Lucius stared in astonishment. He had had over two decades on his young lover, yet here he was after less than seven years. Alex smiled.

“Like I could be without you, my beautiful Lucifer”, he said. “I moved in with Ben here for a time; he lost his wife just before I lost you, remember, but I was never the same without you. Although I see you've been.... busy?”

Bearing in mind where rather too much of his blood was just then it should not have been possible for Lucius to blush like that. But he did it anyway.

“Oh he's been busy!” Ben grinned. “And that horny fucker of an angel popping up from downstairs has taught me a few new tricks as well. Brother, let us demonstrate.”

Lucius' eyes widened. 

“Fuck me!”

And indeed they did!

֍


	6. Chapter 6

_(Benjamin Watson II is the grandson of John Watson I)._

**1949**

**Casdene, East Sussex, England**

Ben Watson sighed as he sank back into his chair, felling every one of his thirty-eight years. His parents' move to Chailey had finally been accomplished and he could relax.

His two elder sons came in, Sherlock looking thoughtful as ever.

“Something wrong, boys?” Ben asked. 

“Mrs. Benson says they've started sweets rationing again”, Sherlock said. “Even barley-sugar, worse luck.”

Ben bit back a smile. Sometimes the boy was so like his late great-grandfather and namesake. 

“And Mother said to not forget to bring up that small bookcase from the cupboard under the stairs”, Hamon said.

“Any chance of you getting it?” Ben asked hopefully.

Both his son gave him sharp looks!

“We have both learned _never_ to look into any unexplored nooks in this house!” Hamon said firmly. “Not after that box of..... 'things' I found under the bed!”

Ben smiled.

“What 'things' were those, son?” he asked innocently.

“We could always pretend to be adopted”, Sherlock muttered to his brother.

Ben just sniggered.

֍


End file.
